Here’s the story.
Earlier that morning, I was drinking coffee with my Great Dane Jackson when I heard a strange scratching noise in the bathroom. Upon investigation, all I found was Dingo the cat sitting on the edge of the bathtub looking slightly puzzled, but definitely not scratching anything.
And yet the noise persisted.
At one point, I could hear the varmint brush up against the outer edge of the bathtub as if it had gone between the tub and wall and had to turn around.
Freaked out, I determined something must be done. This is my domain, not some dumb animal’s. Plus I was worried about a buildup of crap causing unwanted smells.
Unfortunately, I had to go to work. Fortunately, that gave me the chance to tell Zach about the creature to make sure I wasn’t crazy. Unfortunately, the intervening hours gave me time to imagine just what could be in there. (I figured it was probably some sort of mutant opossum/raccoon/snake hybrid, but there was no way to be sure.) Fortunately, it also gave me time to convince Zach that he needed some adventure and to come over and help me deal with this potentially deadly situation.
That evening, with the Kansas State football pregame music mix playing for inspiration, we prepped to do battle with the monster in my wall. We discussed the possibilities of what we might find in there and how we might deal with it. I was praying for it to be a wayward kitten while another friend suggested that somehow a cheetah may have gotten in there.
We prepped, arming ourselves with a couple chunks of pipe, a large crow bar, a drywall saw, and a laundry basket. I wore my welding leathers and spelunking helmet for extra protection and went to work.
After having what I feared could be my last beer ever, I gingerly cut a hole in the wall in the bedroom opposite the space and found…
I have no idea what sort of monstrosity was in there, but it seems that my tactical decision to leave a stereo sitting in the bathtub blasting talk radio all day frightened it away.
I could probably make up some stuff about how it works the same in foster care where we can tend to get ourselves all worked up about things that aren’t really very frightening or that big of a deal in the end. [Oh wait, did I just do that?]
But in reality the point of this post is just to tell a ridiculous story and share this ridiculous pic of us ready for battle.